


and i can't watch this fall apart

by bananamission



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bestiality, Canon-Typical Violence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Chris, Pet Names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:14:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22605334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bananamission/pseuds/bananamission
Summary: "What if Chris had come back to Raccoon City the night when it all ended?"After receiving an alarming voice message from the station, Chris goes back to Raccoon City to save his sister. What he finds is one (1) sister, a traumatized rookie, a child, and devastation.******held during the events of Resident Evil 2 Remake
Relationships: Chris Redfield & Claire Redfield, Leon S. Kennedy/Chris Redfield, Leon S. Kennedy/Mr. X | Tyrant T-00
Comments: 15
Kudos: 325





	and i can't watch this fall apart

**Author's Note:**

> first of all, for those of you who have read lover./left kudos/a comment/glanced in its direction : THANK YOU!!
> 
> now, this fic is a plot bunny than ran away from me several times. PLEASE MIND THE TAGS!! There is one non-con bestiality scene in this that I tried not to describe too much. If this is triggering for you, please check the end notes as well before reading.
> 
> mostly this was just an excuse for me to delve into the Mr.X/Leon universe with a hefty dose of Hurt/comfort afterwards, comfort provided by Chris preferably. it was also an excuse for me to plug Chris into the Resident Evil 2 Remake storyline, because thinking about babyface!Leon and Chris makes me happy.
> 
> the first Chris/Leon fic that i read was Connect, by ClarySage. my work here takes inspiration from this fic, and i warmly recommend you go read it if you don't know it!! it's lovely!!
> 
> i hope you guys enjoy, don't hesitate to leave a comment be it negative or positive, i'll gladly take any advice/comment!!

******

The city was aflame. The streets were busy with overturned cars and dead bodies. What little light shone from street lamps did nothing to hide the macabre spectacle, and while Chris had expected a dire situation when he’d received the desperate voice message from the police station, he had not expected to return to a ghost city. One Lieutenant Branagh had contacted him as he was attempting to leave for Europe. 

“Agent Redfield,” —the man had spoken in a breathy, yet determined way which had had Chris’ hackles rising— “this is Lieutenant Marvin Branagh from the Raccoon City Police Station. The situation here is…” —a defeated chuckle— “dire. You were right. We should have listened after you guys came back from that mansion. You were right about everything. We—“ Here the audio had crackled loudly as the person recording must have moved ; a pained grunt and hurried footsteps rang through the phone as Chris had pressed his ear to it, distressed. “The whole city is dead. But it’s also not, you know?” —another chuckle, bitter this time—“I’m powerless here. You’re the only S.T.A.R.S. member who bothered to leave their contact info when they left, so I figured, why not. If this is anything like what you guys saw at the manor…then I think you should come back. There aren’t many survivors, but our new recruit’s here running around for those goddamned keys so he and your sister can escape.” At that, Chris had paled even more, _Claire had come and was in danger._ “She came looking for you. Wrong time to be missing her brother.” The audio had then crackled again as the man had yelped in surprise, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps and another man’s voice screaming “Lieutenant! Hide!” which is when the message had ended abruptly.

Chris had been in the airport trying to find a way to leave the country. With martial law in place the airport had been crowded with panicked, paranoid citizens who had wanted to leave the state for safety. All their attempts had been in vain and the military present had soon ordered the crowds to evacuate or else. Chris had slipped away, trying everyone on his contacts list who could have gotten him a ride on a plane, any plane ; he had been ready to give any amount of money to be able to leave, but not even one of his former colleagues in the Air Force would answer his calls. After the events in the mansion, Chris had promised himself to stop Umbrella at all costs. More than a duty, it was now a personal concern.

That had been when the voice message had come in. Chris had played it three times before running to the parking lot. He had climbed in his truck and torn down the highway back to the city. He distantly thought about Jill who had stayed in Raccoon City to investigate Umbrella’s underground headquarters. Brad was also in Raccoon City. Barry was supposedly already in Europe, as he had left before Chris to do some recon. Chris had stayed behind as to not raise suspicions ; everyone in the station knew he and the team were out for Umbrella’s blood, and he was sure that hierarchy in the Raccoon City Police Department was corrupt.

Which is why Chris knew not to take the main roads back to the city. If they were barricaded by the military, it'd take him hours to get back onto a serviceable road. He parked the truck on the side of a road fringing a forest. He took weapons from the trunk and braced himself for a long walk through the woods to one of the entrances to the sewers. He knew the police station like the back of his hand and had enough firepower to force any locked door open, as well as eliminate anyone or _anything_ that would find themselves in his way.

He entered the dense woods, checking his compass often ; he couldn’t allow himself to get lost and waste time. He knew that from where he had come into the forest he needed to walk a couple of miles north to reach the sewers. He jogged through the bushes and between the trees, keeping an ear out for odd noises. He reached the entrance without trouble, except for a few twigs and burrs caught on his shoes and clothes. He was not dressed for a trek through the woods ; he was in casual clothes, as he had not wanted to draw attention in the airport, and wore dark cargo pants (which he had reluctantly rolled back down to cover his ankles before walking into the woods) with his old pair of runners, and a threadbare white t-shirt that he occasionally wore to bed, covered by his thick sheepskin bomber jacket. He picked the enormous lock that kept the gate closed —and had a worried thought for Jill, who had taught him that trick— and entered the dark tunnel, turning on his flashlight. 

Chris delved into the hallway, hoping that he’d find his way through the maze of the sewers and to the city. He had taken this route twice before, and was relying on his instinctual memory to guide him.

******

Despite his worry and impatience, he took his time when he needed to choose a route at an intersection, and managed to find an exit quickly. He anxiously ran to the gate and looked through the bars ; it looked like he had found his way to a small street in the city. He exhaled and looked around. There didn’t seem to be anyone around, and he couldn’t hear much. He still decided to proceed with caution ; instead of shooting the lock, he picked it again, for fear of attracting unwanted attention because of the noise. It took a bit of time, and several frustrated huffs, but Chris got the door open and stepped into the street. All his senses were suddenly on alert. 

In spite of the late hour, he could distantly hear an odd hum and several car alarms going off. He looked up and saw that the sky was orange with the glow of fire reflected on thick smoke. The smell wafting through the street was unidentifiable ; it was at the same time distinctly organic, like burnt flesh, and chemical, oil fumes making Chris’ eyes water slightly. He fingered his handgun tucked inside its holster under his jacket for reassurance. He instinctively took it out and took the safety off. He pocketed his flashlight and held the Samurai Edge at the ready, then took a left to reach what looked like a main street. That’s when he saw it.

The streets were glistening with the remnants of rain, and the smell of petrichor mixed with the putrid odor of death and burning. Bodies were scattered on the ground, cars were haphazardly parked or overturned across the whole length of the street. The wounds on some of the corpses was too reminiscent of the ones sported by the zombies in the manor, and Chris’ stomach turned. The weight of his favored gun in his hands was a small relief. 

He focused his attention on going towards the police station. He wasn’t too far, but the closer he got, the more bodies there were. He also had to navigate his way between still-burning cars and his visibility was poor. He felt vulnerable, and hurried as much as he could to the police station gate. A few zombies loitered here and there, and he decided to avoid them as much as possible. He didn’t want to create a commotion by using his gun, and end up attracting more of them. 

The spectacle in front of the gate was hellish. He supposed that most of the neighborhood had wanted to gather there and had found themselves infected ; the few that weren’t shredded to pieces stood, dead yet alive, pressing against the bars of the gate, grunting and moaning. Chris couldn’t enter the station through the main entrance, he should have guessed. He turned around, quickly going back down the street. The few zombies he had dodged earlier found themselves in his way again, and this time he took them out, frustrated and scared. He put his gun in its holster again and instead took his combat knife out, making quick work of disposing of the undead blocking his way. He didn’t check to see if he had effectively killed them ; he just wanted them out of his way. 

He finally reached the service entrance of the station ; that building was old and full of secrets and not-so-secret passageways. He didn’t have time to pick the lock this time and prayed to every deity that it had been left unlocked. Irons was a fucking overconfident idiot who thought he held every key to the place ; the door was open. He went through it and found himself, finally, in the police station.

******

He held his breath as the door shut softly behind him. The room was dark save for the green light of the emergency exit sign above the door. He could see the outline of two bodies sprawled on the floor, their heads intact. He slowly and quietly walked to the other side of the room, hoping to reach the main hall of the station quickly. He needed to find Claire now. He hoped that his fool of a little sister was safe and taking care of herself, as pointless as such a wish might seem in this situation. 

The two corpses remained still, and he was able to reach the reception and the main hall unscathed and without accident. He had expected the room to be a mess of bodies, but it was surprisingly quiet and undisturbed, considering. He could see makeshift hospital beds in a corner, and went to investigate them ; bloody bandages and blood stains covered the sheets and the ground surrounding the beds, there were several IV stands on the ground. He could only guess what had happened there. 

The sound of radio static made him jump and turn in the direction of the noise. He tightened his grip on his knife and creeped towards a torn screen, shielding the main desk from Chris’ view. He took a quick and wide step to reach behind it ; there laid the corpse of a dark-skinned police officer. His radio was crackling, probably malfunctioning. Half his face was missing, probably shot off by the gun laying on the floor, next to his lifeless hand. Chris still knew who this was, and looked away, struck by grief for a person he saw almost everyday at the station but still knew only superficially. 

Next to the couch were lieutenant Branagh now laid was an open and still functioning laptop displaying several security cameras’ feed in the police station. Chris recognized the rooms they were set in ; only one of them wasn’t working and showed a black screen. He scanned all the feeds, looking for Claire, or at least a trace of her presence in one of the rooms.

He was about to give up and look through the rest of the main hall for clues when quick footfalls rang across the hall. He anxiously hid behind the torn screen, weapon at the ready. The steps were confident and growing closer. He didn't know of any zombies that could run, or walk with purpose. Chris peeked behind the screen and stared. His sister was behind the main desk, in a tank top, covered in grime and blood, hair a mess. She seemed to be rummaging through a large box, and she had a shotgun strapped to her back. He stood up from his crouched position behind the screen, involuntarily jarring it and revealing his presence to Claire.

She spun around so quickly that her ponytail smacked her cheek, but she barely flinched ; she was already pointing towards the source of the noise with a handgun, one that looked very similar to his own. Her eyebrows were drawn in concentration, but he knew his sister ; she was absolutely terrified. He lifted his arms and showed his hands, calling out to her.

“Don’t shoot, it’s me, Chris!”

He heard and saw her gasp, her grip on the gun never relenting, but her demeanor shifting. He stepped out from behind the screen, and looked to her. She lowered her gun, arms suddenly trembling.

“Chris?”

He smiled. “Yeah, it’s me.”

She looked so relieved to see him he thought she’d drop her gun ; instead she put it back in its holster on her thigh, and she ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Oh Chris, I was so scared for you.”

He chuckled and returned her embrace, himself feeling dizzy with relief that his baby sister seemed fine.

“If you’re scared for me, and I’m scared for you, then who’s driving this car?”

She laughed wetly at his poor attempt at a joke. She released him from her arms and looked at him, considering.

“Where were you?” She asked simply.

He stepped away and quickly scanned her for injuries. She looked mostly unscathed except for some bruises and cuts, but nothing major.

“I was leaving for a holiday trip when I received a rather alarming message from Lieutenant Branagh…” he glanced behind himself, at the couch that held Marvin’s body. “I had to come back. He mentioned you were there, along with a new recruit, so I had to come.”

At the mention of Marvin, Claire’s eyes misted over ; she had known him. She quickly recovered when he spoke of the newbie.

“Leon!! Yes, he helped me on the way to Raccoon City, and we helped each other when we…” she swallowed, hard. “when we found all this. He got me into the station, I was looking for you. But now we’re both trapped here, we can’t go out from the main entrance. The parking lot’s exit looks safe but we’re missing the key. I’m looking for it. Leon is upstairs with Sherry…”

“Sherry?” Chris interrupted.

Claire nodded. “A little girl. A survivor. I left her with Leon because he can protect her better than I can.”

Chris’ head was spinning. “Where are they now? We should leave immediately, this place is surrounded by the infected.”

“I left them in the S.T.A.R.S. office upstairs. They should be safe. But I still don’t have that key…”

“I do.” It was in his pocket, from when he had left the station a few hours, barely half a day earlier, to retrieve his truck. Christ.

Claire’s shoulders slumped in relief, and she breathed out. “Oh, that’s a big help.” She eyed him curiously. “Wait, did you say vacation earlier?”

He shifted guiltily. He’d never been a good liar. “Let’s talk about that later,” he said firmly. “We should find the others and leave this place.”

She acquiesced. “Is there another exit that we might use? Where did you come in from?”

“There’s a service entrance near the reception. I was fine getting in that way because I’m armed and alone, but I don’t think three adults and a child will go by as easily. We should go out through the parking lot. Maybe we can even take one of the cars there.” 

Claire looked sheepish for a second. “There was an accident. I don’t think any of the cars are still in a good enough shape to be used now.”

He looked at his sister worryingly. What hell had she gone through while he was gone?

An interruption came in the form of booming footsteps above their heads. They both froze, and Chris stared as his sister reached for the shotgun on her back immediately, swearing under her breath.

“Claire?” He had to say it out loud, just to assure himself it was indeed his sister standing in front of him. He had trained her on the shooting range before he’d been dispatched to Raccoon City, but he never thought he’d see his sister so ravenously dangerous. 

She shushed him and listened. The footsteps sounded too close for comfort, and the sound they made was menacing in itself. Chris knew that whoever walked like that was bad news.

“'Think he’s going towards where Leon is. We gotta move.” Claire spoke hurriedly, in an undertone. She then rummaged some more in the box —Chris could see a bunch of tools, keys, and ammunition haphazardly laying at the bottom— before shouldering the shotgun again. She took a flamethrower out of the box and propped it on her cocked hip while she pocketed some ammo, and Chris exploded in a hushed voice.

“Claire, what the fuck do you think you’re doing with that? What are we up against?”

She closed the lid to the box and turned back to face her brother, looking ready to kick ass. He took a step back as she advanced on him and made for the stairs, beckoning him to follow. She was still holding the flamethrower. He fell into step with her.

“This guy…I don’t know if he ever was human. All I know is that he’s big, too fucking strong, and bullets don’t do anything. The flamethrower’s a bit more of a deterrent, but it still won’t kill him, he just goes down long enough for you to get a headstart on him.” She checked her blind spots as she spoke and walked. Chris took his gun in hand and readied it. He didn’t like feeling useless, and holding his gun gave him the feeling that he could do something. He could _protect_.

They reached the second floor. More bodies laid on the floor, sometimes only body parts. A few infected were grunting at the end of the hallway leading to the library. They entered it without paying them any mind.

The library was in some state ; splintered wood everywhere, ladders on the floor next to some more bodies, books scattered all around—

“By the way,” Claire spoke up again. “It is really, really fucked that y’all have to go through the library, then through some random lounge, and _then_ through the creepiest hallway ever _just_ to reach your workspace.”

Chris laughed softly. “Yeah, I know. It’s an old building, we’re just adapting around it.”

They reached said creepy corridor, and Chris almost bumped into Claire as she froze in the doorway. She gestured for him to be quiet just as he heard the click of claws on concrete. Big claws. 

They creeped forward, softening their footfalls, and weapons at the ready. Chris turned his flashlight on and saw it. A huge, crawling creature was scaling along the wall on the right, ahead of them. It had to be blind, as Chris shone his light to it and it didn’t react. It screeched lowly, its grotesquely long tongue unraveling from behind its sharp fangs, seemingly to scent the air. It looked like it had no skin, no eyes, and its brain was visible. 

Chris didn’t comment, and Claire continued walking down the hallway without a word. It was evidently not her first encounter with this kind of creature ; he could also spot charred or dismembered corpses of that same species on the ground.

A terrified scream rang from the end of the hallway, just once. Claire gasped. The creature on the wall darted towards the other end of the hallway. It really was driven by sound. They took the opportunity to walk faster towards the S.T.A.R.S. office. The creature was hissing and snarling above the door, unable to open it, but having effectively identified the room on the other side as the origin of the scream.

Claire aimed at the creature and fired. The continuous jet of flames engulfed the beast, and it fell to the floor screeching. Claire cut off the fire and kicked the still smoldering remains of the monster aside, before grabbing the door handle. She cast a worried but determined look at her brother, and turned the handle slowly. There was noise coming from inside.

They pushed their way past the door and into the office. They could hear grunting noises, shuffling sounds, and muffled cries —of pain, of protest, of fear— but they couldn’t see their origin. Chris turned left after Wesker’s office ; the door was open, and no one seemed to be inside. Chris looked to Claire ; she was pale, and looked afraid, but after a quick glance into the office she reached the same conclusion as Chris. Not here. 

Chris saw movement from inside the armory. The door had been ripped from its hinges. From behind cardboard boxes which he knew were full of ammo, Chris could see a large back moving. The siblings approached the armory slowly, silently. When they were close enough to see clearly what was going on inside, Claire, despite showing strong survival instincts until then, couldn’t help but scream.

“Leon!!!”

For Leon was crushed under the bulk of a monster. It wore, comically, a long, black, unfastened trench coat and a fedora hat. Its skin was pale like a corpse’s. From his position, Chris couldn’t see its face ; its back was facing him as it straddled Leon’s hips. The creature was holding both of Leon’s arms above his head with one massive hand, in a position that had to be painful. Leon was on his front, squirming as best as he could, trying to escape. His movements were sluggish with exhaustion and fear, however, and the beast was taking advantage of that. Its other hand was wrapped around Leon’s face and neck, a finger slipped inside his mouth and the rest snaking around his windpipe.

The monster’s movements were oddly rhythmic as Leon gradually stopped struggling, his energy leaving him with each pained whistling breath he took. Then Chris’ blood went cold as he understood ; the creature was trying to mount Leon. It was bearing its hips down in an unmistakeable manner, trying to adjust its position and its mate’s as it failed again and again to get inside.

The creature turned its head towards them at Claire’s cry ; in the split second between the moment Chris understood what was going on before his eyes and the moment the beast made to get up to get at the intruders, Claire had dropped the flamethrower and was shooting at the monster’s head with her shotgun. It removed its bulk off of Leon’s sprawled form and stood up slowly, unbothered by the bullets. Chris was looking for an opening to get to Leon and get him out of the armory while he joined his sister in shooting at the monster. His ears rang with the detonation of the weapons and the tingling sound of cartridges falling to the ground, yet all he could hear was white noise ; his thoughts were blank and he felt numb with righteous rage at what he had just witnessed.

Then it came ; the monster fell forward. Chris didn’t wait for it to reach the ground. He shouldered his way past the massive body and got inside the armory. Leon was still laying on the floor, clothing ripped and seemingly unconscious. He seemed to be bleeding from several places. He kneeled and grabbed the man’s legs, which had Leon jump and start screaming again. The beast moved, and Chris swore. _Already?_ Leon had frozen when it had shifted, giving Chris an opportunity to shift him towards him and on his back.

“Chris!” Claire screamed as she backed away from the monster, gun at the ready. “I’ll distract this motherfucker and take him out of here. You grab Leon and join me in the parking lot in 15!”

Not waiting for an answer, she then started shooting at the creature again while screaming, “Come here, asshole!” and backtracking towards the door of the office. The monster made for her, and she knew she had its whole attention ; she sprinted towards the door and left the office, the beast hot on her heels and without a backward glance towards his previous victim.

Chris tried to ignore the pit of dread his sister’s departure had hollowed out further. If what he had seen was this monster’s MO… He dismissed the thought. Claire had made it this far, had probably escaped this fucker before. She _would_ be at the parking lot in 15.

He turned back to the man in front of him as he kneeled on the floor. Leon. He was shivering, looking towards the door from which the beast had gone. 

“Hey, hey.” Chris spoke softly, as to not spook the man further.

Still, he jumped and jerkily turned to face Chris. Despite the messy hair and various bruises on his face, his eyes stood out starkly ; they were a startlingly clear blue and considered Chris with gravity. The latter tried to look and sound as non-threatening as possible.

“Hi, I’m Chris. I’m Claire’s brother. You’re Leon, right?”

The man just stared blankly, his eyes never leaving Chris’.

“Alright. I know you’re Leon because my sister knew you. I’m gonna call you that too, if you don’t mind. Maybe we’ll get on a last name basis once we’re out of here, yeah?”

He was purposefully babbling, trying to distract Leon from the fact that he wasn’t looking at him anymore and that he had started maneuvering him again. He had lifted Leon’s torso and his knees up, slipping one arm under them and the other around his back, under his armpit, so that he’d be able to lift Leon up into his arms.

“You’re hurt, and you look very weak —no offense— which is why I’m going to carry you. Please, don’t hit me, okay? We’re going to the parking lot together and we’re going to get out of this shithole, how’s that sound?”

He continuously spoke even as Leon was unresponsive. The man was in some sort of stupor and didn’t answer Chris, although he looked alert and was watching around him and back to Chris. The latter made to get up and started lifting Leon up. The sudden movement made Leon whine in pain. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, throwing an arm around Chris’ shoulder and holding on to his jacket. He made quick work of getting up, and proceeded to walk towards his former desk.

“Sorry if I hurt you doing that. It wasn’t my intention, but I think you know that. I’ll just get this jacket for you real quick. Hold onto me.”

He awkwardly stretched his right arm to grab the leather jacket pinned onto the wall next to his desk, trying his best not to jar his load too much and not drop him as well.

“Here, can you grab that?” Chris said, wiggling the hand holding the jacket under Leon’s arm. It looked like it pained him, but Leon held his arm out for the jacket and pulled it on himself as best as he could. “That’s it, I think you’re feeling better covered up, hm?”

He adjusted his grip on the smaller man and turned around. It took everything in him to not let go once he spotted the little girl looking at them from Wesker’s office door.

******

“Leon?” She whispered.

Chris exhaled forcefully. It had to be Sherry, that little girl Claire had mentioned. Upon hearing her voice, Leon squirmed nervously in Chris’ arms. He looked down to see Leon’s face shielded by his hair, his hand gripping Chris’ leather jacket tightly in his lap.

Chris looked up at the girl who was eyeing them curiously. She looked unharmed, if not a little dirty.

“Leon’s feeling a little bit bad right now, sorry.” Chris murmured to mimic her tone. He attempted to smile in what he hoped was a friendly expression. “I’m Claire’s brother, Chris. You’re Sherry? She told me about you.”

The girl looked appeased upon hearing Claire’s name. She nodded.

“Okay Sherry, here’s what we need to do.” Chris went on. “Claire is meeting us in the parking lot later, and we’re all leaving this place, does that sound okay to you?”

She approached him and nodded again, looking intent.

“Okay. I can hold your jacket too so I don’t get lost. We match, too.”

Chris noticed that she indeed had Claire’s leather jacket draped on her shoulders, one that was very similar to the one currently thrown on Leon’s lap. It had been a mutual gift between the Redfield siblings when Chris had left for the Air Force.

“That’s a good idea, Sherry. I can’t really use my arms right now so we’ll have to be extra careful too, yeah? Let’s not make any noise.”

They went to the door together. Sherry opened it and let Chris peek into the hallway. No sound, no monster in sight. He tilted his head towards Sherry to indicate they should move, and she lightly grabbed at Chris’ jacket on his elbow. She was careful not to hinder his movements and moved one step behind him. They made their way down the hallway in silence and without problem. Chris was looking out for any noises of heavy footsteps or growling.

They reached the door to the library, and Sherry stepped in front of Chris to open the door gently, without saying a word. He was more nervous about crossing this room. More blind spots. He still shot a grateful smile to Sherry as she returned to her position at his side. Chris felt the girl’s own anxiety, and they both crossed the room quickly, without looking around.

They similarly reached the second floor landing and the main hall, only crossing paths with some zombies twice ; they quickened their pace and easily dodged them. It looked like Claire and that beast had cleared a clean path for them. 

By the time they reached the parking lot, they were both jogging slightly. Leon was bouncing in Chris’ arms but still didn’t say a thing. Claire was waiting at the gate, flamethrower once again in hand and looking more harried than before. When she spotted them, she visibly deflated in relief.

“I only realized how dangerous it was to leave you with two vulnerable persons to cross the whole place to reach me once I’d left the room. I’m sorry.”

Chris shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. We’re okay. You sure did some cleanup with the big guy earlier.”

She looked furious for a second. “I outran him somewhere near the clock tower. Let’s hope he won’t think to look for us here.”

Sherry stepped out from behind Chris and ran to Claire, hugging her around the hips fiercely. Chris heard his sister whisper something to the girl as she bent to her level, caressing her shoulders.

He took a step towards his sister. “Take the key from my pocket and let’s get out of there.”

She ruffled Sherry’s hair before complying. She turned to the gate and opened it, pocketing the key afterwards. 

“Where should we go now?” Her voice was shaky.

“We should head to my place. It’s not far from here. This guy—“ Chris nodded towards Leon’s prone form, “—needs medical care, and you guys need to rest. That’s our priority for now.”

Claire acquiesced silently. They didn’t know what awaited outside, but they had a goal now, and the promise of a safe space.

******

“Claire, help me hold his legs.”

“I don’t think we should do it like this. He’s clearly flipping out, we’re scaring him!!”

“Claire please listen to your brother, I have to sedate him to attend to his wounds. He won’t let me touch him otherwise.”

Claire stared blankly at Rebecca and Chris who were trying to hold a wildly terrified Leon. He was thrashing about from his position on the couch, evidently unhappy with this turn of events. He still hadn’t spoken a word, even when Rebecca had scared them all half to death by running out of the shadowed corridor on Chris’ flat’s floor. She had heard them enter the building and thought they’d been infected, ready to eliminate them. 

Claire finally moved, grabbing both of Leon’s ankles. He yelped in distress and tried to remove her hands with his own, using blunt, bloodied nails. Chris stepped in, grabbing both his hands and looking him in the eye.

“Hey man, not cool. We’re trying to help you, you should relax.”

Leon gazed up at Chris when he addressed him. He was still squirming, until he abruptly stopped, seemingly out of steam. Chris smiled.

“That’s nice, yeah, thank you Leon. Rebecca’s going to give you some nice go-go juice and you’ll feel all better when you wake up. Sounds good right? I might just take some too and take a really long nap ; you’re just going first, dude.”

Claire noticed that Chris was just biding time. Leon didn’t protest being held down while Chris was talking, and that allowed Rebecca to slip a thin needle into his neck, pulling it away almost immediately. Leon didn’t seem to notice, and as soon as the needle was out, Claire removed her hands from the man’s legs, busying herself with untying his boots instead.

“—see, you’re super sleepy right now, so just let me go, man, and rest. Don’t worry I’ll be right there when you wake up, no one’s leaving you behind,” Chris droned on, gently.

Claire removed Leon’s shoes and pushed his legs on the sofa so he’d be in a semi-reclining position. His eyes were fluttering, and Chris let go of his hands to rest them on his stomach as he quickly fell asleep.

They’d taken care of Sherry first, letting Rebecca check her for injuries or traces of infection, then letting her shower. She was fast asleep in Chris’ guest room. Now Leon was asleep on the couch, and Rebecca was starting to cut through what remained of his clothing to examine him. Chris sighed and moved towards the bathroom, and Claire followed him.

They went into the bathroom together. They kept quiet while Claire got in the shower and drew the curtain closed, undressing absentmindedly and throwing her clothes behind the curtain. She heard her brother gather them and put them in a bag, then sit on the toilet lid. 

“So…you and Rebecca?” Claire asked, shampooing her hair vigorously. Doing such a mundane thing as showering after what they’d been through earlier seemed almost unreal, and chatting about inconsequential things with her brother was bound to ground her. She heard him snort.

“All S.T.A.R.S. personnel live in this building. It was generously offered by…” there his tone grew sarcastic, “Umbrella. So we’d be close to the station and were close to each other. So yes, Rebecca is my neighbor. But that’s it.”

“Awh, I think she’s cute. And you probably have a shot, the way she seems to look up to you.” She started rinsing off.

“Nah. She’s like another little sister. Less annoying, more respectful. Scarier, too.”

She cut off the water, and he threw her a towel above the curtain. She wrapped herself up and opened the curtain, stepping out of the shower. He stepped in and closed the curtain again, repeating Claire’s process and throwing his clothes out.

“Scarier? She’s like, 5’2.” she deadpanned.

Her brother scoffed. “Okay, short legs.”

She sputtered around her toothbrush, but didn’t answer. She brushed her teeth, her back to the mirror, then picked up a t-shirt hung on the back of the door. She sniffed it on reflex and threw it on. It was big enough that it fell to her knees, so she hobbled out of the bathroom in search of pants. She rummaged through her brother’s wardrobe —which was more of a container for an explosion of clothing of all sorts— and extracted a black pair of boxer shorts. She put them on and tightened the drawstring as much as she could before going back to the living room to check on Leon and Rebecca.

The man was still fast asleep, and Rebecca had drawn a blanket over him. She was washing her hands in the kitchen and looked quite pale. 

“How is he?” Claire enquired, sitting in the armchair closest to Leon’s head.

As she came back to the living room and sat in a chair next to Leon’s legs, Chris came out of the bathroom with still-wet hair and loose joggings on. He plopped himself down on the coffee table with a heavy sigh, and looked to Rebecca.

“I have no idea what happened to you guys at the station.” her voice was steely, her face drawn. “But this man…” She looked towards Leon thoughtfully. “I tended to his injuries. He has multiples bruises all over, just like you two. But his wrists are bound to be seriously sore once he wakes up, they’re black almost all around. And…” she hesitated. “I’ve taken some blood samples, but I’m pretty sure he’s infected.”

“That’s impossible.” Claire looked up in surprise at her brother. He looked furious. “I carried him all the way from the station, and he was conscious. He never attacked or showed any signs of infection.”

“I know, which is why I’ll look into the blood samples I took from him. When I checked his eyes to see if the sedative had kicked in fully, there was some bloody discharge, and his pupils were very dilated. I just want to make sure. This could be a mutated version of the T-virus.”

“T-virus?” Claire questioned, looking between her brother and his friend.

Chris was staring at Leon, brow furrowed. When no answer came from him, Rebecca spoke up.

“Your brother and I were sent on a mission with our teams to investigate the Arklay mountains murders. We encountered infected specimens there, some of which had mutated. We were able to determine that Umbrella Corporation was behind the virus turning dead people into flesh-eating monsters after we investigated some. And now it seems to have reached this city…”

Her voice had been clinically stating the facts, but she looked worried. Claire looked to her and noticed her messy hair, and the bloody sleeve of her shirt. She had to have gone through some trials that night as well.

Still reeling from those explanations, Claire didn’t speak. She’d seen the horrors of the G-virus, and now there was a T-virus? Her brother suddenly got up, looking determined.

“You guys should rest, you both look like you’re about to faint. Rebecca, you can shower if you want.”

Claire stood up mechanically, looking at Rebecca curiously. Chris nudged the latter with his foot until she stood up too, and he looked at his sister.

“You can sleep with the kid in the guest bedroom if you like. I think she’ll be more comfortable waking up with someone she trusts. I’ll watch over Leon tonight. If he’s infected, I’m not comfortable with letting him out of my sight.” He turned to Rebecca, who had made her way to the bathroom door. “You can take my bed, Beck.”

The girl scrunched her nose at that, but didn’t say anything, and closed the bathroom door behind herself. Claire opened the guest room’s door, and looked back at Chris. When he noticed her looking, her brother smirked.

“What, need a lullaby? Don’t worry your lil’ brain out, I’ll be in the living room.”

With that, he turned around and sat in her vacant armchair, out of her sight. She snorted, and let herself inside the room, closed the door, and got into bed quietly. Sherry was fast asleep already, and looked peaceful. Claire tried not to think too much about anything, and willed herself to sleep.

******

Chris woke up with a jolt. Hadn’t he meant to be on watch duty? He blinked several times to clear his vision ; it looked to be around noon, with the sun shining insolently into the living room. He stretched his neck with a sigh and straightened up. He’d fallen asleep sitting in the armchair next to Leon, and his back felt awkwardly stiff.

He heard a shuffling noise on his left and turned abruptly, immediately on alert. Leon was awake, propped on his elbow, and was staring at Chris blankly. The latter noticed that his pupils were indeed very dilated as Rebecca has said, and looked entirely black, bottomless. Chris exhaled.

“Hey man, back online huh?” He said lightly, hoping that the blonde would answer this time.

But Leon merely stared on, not blinking. He was breathing deeply, his shoulders naked from where the blanket had slipped down. He was dirty, his face darkened by blood and filth. Chris could see that he was pale though, his lips looking bloodless and dry. 

Chris gasped in alarm when a drop of blood rolled down Leon’s face suddenly, followed by another on the opposite cheek.

“Okay, alright.” Chris stood up and jogged to the bathroom, grabbing a fresh towel that he ran under the tap and some gauze, disinfectant, and a bottle of saline left on the counter earlier by Rebecca. He hurried back to the living room, where Leon had sat up on the couch, deep blue blanket pooled into his lap, exposing his bruised, toned torso. He was facing the bathroom door, rubbing his right eye and smearing blood on his cheekbone. He didn’t seem to be in pain, but looked at his bloody hand in surprise.

“Dude, you’re freaking me out, stop touching your eyes for a sec, alright? Lemme look at this.” Chris plopped down next to Leon on the couch and spread his bathroom loot on the coffee table in front of them, keeping the towel in his hand. Leon automatically turned to face him and blinked up obediently, blood still rolling down his cheeks and into the dip of his clavicles.

Chris was starting to freak out with the quantity of blood and Leon’s unresponsiveness. He thought about calling for Rebecca. Instead he lifted the towel to Leon’s face slowly, cataloguing his movements so Leon could pull away if he wanted to. He started rubbing the flannel on Leon’s skin, cleaning the man’s face gradually, toweling the bloody tears away. They still kept on coming though, and Chris was getting overwhelmed. He put down the now bloody and grimy towel to grab the saline.

“Open your eyes wide and look up,” Chris ordered, not unkindly.

Leon followed the instructions and waited. Chris started squirting some solution in both his eyes, hoping to clear the blood away, hoping foolishly that the reaction was due to something stuck in the man’s eye.

“Close ‘em and roll ‘em around, there’s a good boy,” Chris said lightly. Leon complied, and the older man observed as his eyeballs moved under the lids. He dabbed at the mixture of saline and blood escaping from Leon’s lashes with the towel and gently prompted him to open his eyes again. 

Leon focused his wet eyes on Chris’ face immediately and smiled slightly. Chris stilled at the sight.

“Chris.”

Leon’s voice was weak and cracked pronouncing the name — Chris remembered his muffled screams from behind the beast’s hand, and how it must have shredded his vocal cords — but he sounded clear-headed, if not a little hesitant. A drop of blood threatened to spill out of his right eye, but he closed them. His brow furrowed and he groaned, lowering his head into his hand.

“Leon? What’s going on, buddy?” Chris worried.

The blonde suddenly fell forward onto Chris’ broad shoulder, his forehead on the juncture between neck and shoulder, nose nestled in the clavicle. Chris stiffened instinctively, his mind recognizing the movement as an attempt to bite, but no teeth seemed to be coming. Leon was gasping and grumbling, clenching and unclenching his hands between them. He looked to be in pain. 

“My head…” he murmured.

The front door of the flat burst open with Rebecca’s entrance, and Leon jumped up in surprise, whirled around to face the intruder, and snarled an animalistic noise. Rebecca stilled in the entranceway to the living room, her eyes flitting between Chris and Leon, whom Chris realized had positioned himself between him and Rebecca, his entire upper body shaking with restraint. He placed a placating hand between the man’s shoulder blades, hoping that the contact would distract his attention away from the medic.

“Leon, it’s Rebecca, relax. She’s here to help you get better,” Chris tried, speaking directly into Leon’s ear. When his words had no effect, Chris started rubbing Leon’s back as he would a spooked dog, making soothing noises. He circled the man’s thin waist with his other arm, restraining but not stifling, and signaled Rebecca to approach with a glance.

“I couldn’t sleep at all last night so I went down to my lab for Leon’s samples,” she spoke firmly, and moved towards the chair she had occupied earlier that morning, ignoring Leon completely in order to appease him. Leon never let her out of her sight but stopped growling, which prompted Chris to praise him guiltily. He was treating him like a pet.

“Your lab?” Chris intervened. He noticed Leon’s eyes had stopped bleeding but still looked as dark as ever.

Rebecca nodded, sitting primly in the chair without looking at Leon nor Chris, occupying herself with the small medikit she’d brought instead. 

“I took the liberty of installing some equipment in my flat so I could continue researching the T-virus without Irons noticing,” she explained, and grinned. “It took me a while to find everything I needed but I’ve got enough.”

Chris didn’t bother asking how she got ahold of the kind of equipment necessary to conduct scientific research on virus samples, instead focusing on grounding Leon who had grown agitated again at the sight of a needle in the medikit.

“Shh, Leon, it’s okay. You said your head hurts and Rebecca is going to help with that, hm? Shh, don’t hurt yourself, please.”

Rebecca was filling the syringe with a clear liquid from a phial meanwhile, and stated, “I’ve compared Leon’s samples to the ones we extracted from the manor in Arklay. The two present similar characteristics, but Leon’s seems somewhat….incomplete. I don’t know what exactly it entails, but the T-virus reacted strongly to its exposure to it. Leon’s strand is weaker and less invasive, so his level of infection is less important. Plus, it seems Leon’s immune system is actively fighting off the infection, so whoever infected him failed the incubation. I’m just going to boost his antibodies so he can eliminate the virus more efficiently, and perhaps more quickly.”

She rose from her chair with the syringe in her hand, and Leon hissed at her. Chris decided to actively prevent him from attacking Rebecca, and turned Leon around to face him instead, pushing his face into his neck in a similar position as they had been earlier. The smaller man was panting and squirming, and Chris opted to stroke his hair so he’d be able to hold onto his head if he decided to turn around.

“Nah man, you’re getting a hug, I’m sorry. We’re letting Rebecca give you more go-go juice and then I’ll let you go. Maybe you can take a shower, brush ya teeth? Ain’t saying you smell but you do slightly smell like a slaughterhouse.”

He was babbling out of nervousness and to distract the man in his arms, and it worked ; Leon slumped into Chris’ embrace, sighed loudly, and hummed into his neck. Rebecca approached quietly and administered the contents of the syringe into Leon’s neck. Once she was done she retreated to her chair and slumped her head back, exhausted. Leon had started shaking and whimpering in Chris’ arms, so he kept petting the smaller man soothingly.

Claire and Sherry stumbled out of the guest room bleary-eyed, both stopping to consider the scene unfolding in front of them. Leon had stiffened in Chris’ arms upon hearing the door open, but Rebecca looked to be snoozing on her chair, head thrown back and breathing noisily. Claire observed as her brother whispered into Leon’s ear and tucked his head under his chin, hand protectively holding him around the waist. Sherry approached the both of them and looked up at Chris.

“Is Leon okay?” She asked quietly, but Leon still flinched.

“Right now he’s just really spooked, but he’s going to be okay, yeah. Thanks for asking, yeah Leon? Y’hear how Sherry wants you to be better?” He started stroking the smaller man’s nape as he spoke. 

Rebecca abruptly straightened up and announced, “I’m going to go sleep now. You girls wanna come with? I’ll go down to my flat so Leon doesn’t feel too overwhelmed and gets some rest.”

Claire nodded and Rebecca stood up, gathering her things and stepping out of the flat wordlessly, obviously exhausted. Sherry took Claire’s hand and they both followed, closing the front door behind them.

Once everyone was out of the flat, Chris felt Leon relax in his arms. He couldn’t help but want to dote on the younger man, he felt unbelievably protective of him ; he’d been through some shit the previous evening, and what Chris and Claire had pulled him out of had been unimaginably traumatizing. Just witnessing it had had Chris feeling sick and enraged. Leon was just a young rookie, and even if he hadn’t been part of the team, no one deserved to go through what he’d been subjected to. The older man had unconsciously taken it upon himself to take care of Leon, with his blue eyes, too trusting, and his little pink mouth that was currently puffing against Chris’ bare chest.

“Hey man, everyone’s gone. Rebecca gave you your injection, and they left. You can let go now, it’s okay.” He prompted gently. “Wanna take a shower?”

Chris’ skin broke out in goosebumps when Leon suddenly started mouthing at his jutting Adam’s apple. Blunt teeth nibbled at the skin, and Chris pulled away, searching the man’s face for any signs that Leon was turning into one of those monsters. But Leon just looked at Chris, eyes shiny and scared, lips red from biting them.

Chris sighed and stood up, bringing Leon to his feet as well. The smaller man winced at the motion, and Chris remembered how his clothing had been torn when he’d laid under the monster, and how it had repeatedly pushed itself down into Leon’s backside. He gritted his teeth, felt the hot rush of anger come back. He wrapped Leon into the discarded blanket and grabbed him around the shoulders and under the knees and carried him to the bathroom himself instead of having him walk. Leon let out a half laugh, half yelp when Chris swooped him into his arms, and the older man smiled. He set him down on the edge of the bathtub and opened the faucet, drawing a bath.

Leon never took his eyes off Chris, and through the thunderous noise of water flowing into the bathtub, he called his name again.

“Chris.”

The older man smiled encouragingly. “Yeah, man. That’s me, you back?”

Leon huffed and unwrapped the blanket from around himself, revealing miles and miles of bruised, pale skin and muscle. His forearms were covered in blood and his face was still streaked with red. Chris averted his gaze automatically.

“I’m here, Chris.” Leon pronounced brokenly. He stood shakily and made to go into the now-almost full tub. Chris couldn’t help but hold his wrist, nervous that the man would slip and fall. He lowered the smaller man into the water, pulling a pained hiss from the blonde when his hips went underwater.

“Hey Leon. I’m glad you decided to join us at last, was starting to worry.” Chris busied himself with closing the tap and reached for a bottle of showergel. He squirted a generous amount in the water, and stirred it with his hand to create a safe barrier of bubbles at the surface. Leon was submerged to his shoulders, and was vigorously scrubbing at himself under the water. He looked deeply uncomfortable, and Chris took it upon himself to distract him from the pain.

He sat back on his haunches and remained next to the tub. “You should sleep after that. Or maybe you’re hungry? I should have some food in the fridge, maybe some leftover pasta. Claire always tells me to empty it before I leave for a long time so I don’t come back to rotten food but I can never get coordinated enough to manage that, somehow.”

Leon had thoroughly rubbed every part of his body with his hands, turning the water a dull red from all the blood and dirt that came off him. He was now focused on his hands and fingernails, meticulously extracting filth from them.

“I’m not hungry, but thank you, Chris.” His voice was very soft, almost as if he were scared to speak too loudly, or at all. He dropped his hands back into the water and sighed.

“I’m sorry I was a burden back at the station. Even when we got here, I was… I don’t know what happened. I couldn’t control anything. It felt like I was dreaming.” He trembled in the water, hugging his knees to his chest.

“Hey, hey,” Chris intervened, “don’t say that. You were infected, and you weren’t a burden. You were actually like a spooked cat,” he smirked, trying to lighten up Leon’s tension.

The latter chuckled sadly, and got up suddenly, exposing all of his naked glory to Chris once again. 

“I want to wash my hair,” he pronounced determinedly.

Chris snorted, trying not to get too much of an eyeful. “All right, princess. Let me empty this tub and we’ll get you a nice mane again.”

The blonde didn’t move as Chris emptied the tub and grabbed the showerhead, fiddling with the faucet until the water was warm. Leon stared at Chris’ arms as he leaned over the tub. 

“Why are you being so…so…” Leon huffed, frustrated. Chris looked up at him as the blonde gritted his teeth and whined. Do not look at his crotch, Redfield.

“So what?” Chris pushed for an answer.

“So considerate!” Leon exploded, fists clenched at his sides. “I’m just a stupid rookie who came in late because I got passed out drunk on my way to the city, and then you had to be there when that monster was…was…” he inhaled heavily, eyes threatening to spill large tears. He wasn’t looking at Chris but rather at a spot above his shoulder.

“You’re supposed to be this elite agent and I don’t understand why you’re taking care of such an insignificant, weak link like me like that.” 

He had pronounced each word with purpose ; he meant it. He had not yelled, and Chris briefly wondered if the man was even able to do such a thing, with such a gentle voice. He had sounded defeated, and frustrated, and he looked it as well. He sat back down in the empty tub, too suddenly ; when his lower back connected with the bottom of the tub he yelped in pain, jolting forward and toward the edge of the tub, instinctively grabbing Chris’ forearm.

“Leon,” Chris spoke softly but with intent, he needed the younger man to understand this — in this apocalyptic situation, getting Leon to listen to him seemed like the only thing that would keep Chris from losing it entirely — “right now I don’t think there are any special agents or rookies. I think we’re just a bunch of humans trying to survive whatever hell fate’s thrown us into. And if that means I need to take care of you, I’ll do it. Everyday, and gladly.” He breathed deeply and stroked the back of Leon’s hand, still gripping Chris’ forearm. “When I joined the force I was a reckless idiot. I still am, mind ya. But there’s one thing that will always drive me ; protecting others. I want to protect people. So you,” he poked at Leon in the cheek, making the blonde look up in surprise, “will be cared for, whether you like it or not. I pulled you out of something you shouldn’t have had to suffer, and now I’m going to take care of you so hard you’ll be sick of me in no time.”

Chris chuckled slightly at the end of his speech, feeling self-conscious. He looked up at Leon when the latter didn’t say anything, and was met with two wide blue skies, clear as precious gems. They were fixed on Chris’ face, searching, and trusting. Chris let his gaze roam around the younger man’s face, lingering on the pink parted lips, going back up to the pools of turquoise.

“I don’t see you taking care of Claire like this,” Leon let out weakly, unconvinced by his own argument as he said it.

Chris grabbed his shampoo and squirted some in his hand. “We stuck together all evening yesterday. Once I was sure she was okay, I was able to let her out of my sight.” He lathered Leon’s hair with the shampoo and the air burst with the scent of menthol and musky rose. Chris loved this shampoo and had been using it for some time now ; most of all he loved smelling it on people he brought home sometimes as they laid in bed with him.

He massaged the bubbles into Leon’s scalp and drew a pleased grunt from the latter. 

“I hope you have conditioner,” he murmured.

Chris let out a surprised laugh. “I might look ruggedly handsome, but I have conditioner, princess, don’t worry.”

A blush bloomed on Leon’s cheeks, who seemed to be doing his best to look grumpier by the second. 

Chris let himself focus entirely on getting Leon’s hair clean, detangled, and conditioned. He rinsed the shampoo suds away, careful not to let the water run into the younger man’s eyes. He popped the lid of the bottle of conditioner and used a generous dollop of the sweet-smelling cream on Leon’s matted hair. He took his boar’s hair brush out of a drawer and set on taking all the knots out of the fine strands without ripping the hair out. The brush had been a present from Claire some years ago, when he’d worn his hair long and never took care of it. She’d asked him to at least brush them with a nicer brush so he wouldn’t go bald in ten years.

Leon shifted uncomfortably from his tilted position in the bathtub, trying not to jolt the brush working at his hair too much. The movement put some weight on the bruises on his backside and he winced, slipping away from Chris and further onto his bottom. He made to get up and scrambled to his knees before Chris’ hand on his back stopped him in his tracks.

“I’m sorry Leon but… does it hurt that much? Should I, uh… check?”

Leon looked at Chris bashfully, embarrassed. “It hurts a lot. The couch was sort of okay. I don’t know if I can let you check anything though. I think I’m embarrassed for a lifetime already.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. What happened to you…” Chris trailed off when he felt the rage from yesterday coming back to him. “Can you at least check it yourself? See if there’s anything that needs tending to?”

Leon lowered his eyes. “Fine. But you need to turn around.”

Chris averted his gaze from Leon’s body and made a show of turning his torso away from him. He could hear the younger man move, imagined him to be reaching around his back to feel for wounds. He heard him gasp and whimper quietly, and the urge to turn back around made him itch.

“I’m done.” 

Chris looked back at him. He was sitting back down, resting his bum on his heels.

“Are you okay?” Chris urged.

Leon nodded. “I think I felt a rash, seemed pretty bad but not life-threatening. There’s some bruising but no open wound. I’m fine, just sore.”

He was blushing, high in his cheeks. Chris couldn’t help but chuckle, which made Leon whip his head to look at him severely.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just… We’re in my bathroom, I don’t even know what day it is nor do I know your last name, but we’re talking about your ass.” He shifted from his position on the floor, laughter growing stronger the longer he let himself think about the situation.

Leon licked his lips and sneered. “Sounds like your kind of Friday night, no?” 

Chris gaped, staring at Leon, and started laughing harder than before. Leon startled at the sudden noise but let himself laugh a little as well.

“Wow, princess.” Chris knuckled under his eye, wiping tears of laughter away. “You really came for me with this one. Didn’t expect you to have such a mouth on ya.”

Leon smirked but said nothing, eyes shining with glee. Chris resumed brushing Leon’s hair and made quick work of rising it off, wrapping the man in a plush towel and letting him rise slowly from his crouch. He managed to get out of the tub without slipping, but his movements were halting. He didn’t sit on the edge of the tub to dry off but rather stood awkwardly next to Chris and squirmed in his towel.

“Do you, ah…” he hesitated. “Do you have any ointment?”

Chris abruptly realized they were standing toe-to-toe, on his bathmat. Leon was shorter than him, not by much, but the height difference was accentuated by Leon’s slimmer figure. Chris was still bare-chested and strangely felt like he was the one wearing only a towel.

“I do, it’s in this cabinet under the sink.” He gestured towards it, staring at Leon’s forehead when the other man refused to lift his head and look into his eyes. “I’m going to go get you some clothes, you do your thing. I’ll knock when I’m back.”

Leon nodded, still staring at his toes, and Chris took his leave. Once in his bedroom he mechanically moved to his wardrobe and pulled clean clothes out of several piles, checking the underwear for uncomfortable stitching especially. He considered texting Claire, but he couldn’t deny them some more rest, and decided she would probably come up with Rebecca once the latter had slept. 

He went back to the bathroom and stood outside its closed door. He knocked lightly and heard a gasp inside.

“You good, Leon?” Chris worried.

He heard the man mumble in the bathroom before reassuring Chris that yes, he was okay, but not to open the door yet.

Chris waited until the click of the door allowed him to push into the room. He handed Leon the clothes and brushed his teeth while the other man dressed with more or less difficulty, and put on a t-shirt himself once he was done and Leon had pulled his joggers up.

Now clothed and looking a little less worse for wear, Leon looked up at Chris questioningly. _Now what?_ He was asking. He was saying, _You’re the one with all the answers._ But Chris wasn’t. He really wasn’t.

What he could do for now though was to buy time.

“I think we should eat,” he announced determinedly.

Leon just eyed him blankly, looking uninterested. Chris moved towards the kitchen and started rummaging through the cupboards, looking for something quick and easy to make. He found a box of Mac & Cheese that would do nicely for a post-traumatic events lunch. He had a pot of water heating on the stove and was focusing on opening the bag of macaroni when he heard Leon pad quietly into the kitchen after him, stopping on the threshold. Chris turned around.

“You can wait on the couch or go lie down in my bed if you want. I’ll bring you food when it’s ready,” he said, turning back to the saucepan and pouring the pasta in, not bothering to wait for the water to boil. He felt more than heard Leon move towards him to stand directly to his left and found the younger man observing him rather than what was going on on the stove. He let himself be watched and waited for Leon to make the first move.

“You said I was infected.”

Chris hummed absently.

“Earlier in the bathroom, you said I was infected,” Leon repeated. “What does that mean?”

Chris set the wooden spoon he’d been using to stir the pasta next to the stovetop and turned to Leon. He looked anxious and very intent, and Chris felt compelled to be as honest as he could.

“Rebecca analyzed your blood last night. She found you were carrying a version of a virus she’d encountered on a mission a few months ago. A virus that turned dead people into monsters, like the ones in town.”

Leon took the news in stride ; his eyes widened slightly, and he gripped the countertop behind him, but showed no other sign of obvious distress. 

“Is that why I couldn’t control myself last night and acted…like an animal?”

Chris turned back to the pasta. He knew Leon was embarrassed about his behavior, so he made point of showing it had been no big deal.

“I suppose,” he answered. “Rebecca didn’t tell us much except that it was a weaker strand than what we’ve been fighting against. She said you’d get rid of it by yourself eventually, so she just gave you some vitamins to boost your antibodies, or something.” He drained the pasta and returned it to the pot, emptying the sachet of cheese into it and putting a hefty dose of butter and milk along with it. “The fact that you’re now aware and speaking is very encouraging, I’d say,” he added. “Are you feeling sick at all?”

He saw Leon shake his head from his peripheral vision.

“I just feel somewhat nauseated. And I…” 

He hesitated. Chris paused his stirring, but didn’t look up.

“I seem to feel very uneasy by myself. When you left the bathroom earlier, it took everything in me not to bolt out to find you,” Leon breathed. “When you went into the kitchen too, I tried staying put to see if it had been a freak moment. But something pushed me to follow you. The more I let you out of my sight, the more I felt like I was about to faint.”

Chris turned off the stove and faced Leon, crossing his arms. The smaller man crossed his arms as well, unconsciously mirroring Chris and obviously feeling self-conscious.

“Are you sure it was because I left the room? Maybe you just felt anxious.”

Leon’s gaze hardened and he looked into Chris’ eyes. _Finally, you’re looking at me._

“Anxious? About what, exactly? It being the end of the fucking world outside? Almost being killed by a monster a few hours ago? Being by myself in a bathroom?” He spat.

“Okay, okay. I’m just as freaked out as you are about what’s going on, believe me. I’m just trying to figure out what’s up with you, man.” Chris appeased.

Leon visibly deflated. “I know. Sorry, Chris. I just… I hate this.” His crossed arms slipped into a tighter hold around his own waist. “I hate feeling out of control, and being a liability.”

Chris ached to touch him, reassure him, but he felt just as scared as Leon. He had no clue how they were supposed to go on when the whole town was dead and on fire, and he didn’t know what Leon being infected implied. He was used to be the big brother though, so he tried his best to look tough and reliable ; he turned back to the stove and plated the pasta. He grabbed two spoons and put one in each bowl, facing Leon again and shoving one of the bowls in his direction. The blonde instinctively reached for the food and looked at Chris.

“I told you you’re not a burden. You’re not alone now, so you don’t have to deal with this by yourself, which is a strength. We’ll figure out what’s going on with you together, alright? But for now…” he nudged Leon’s hip with his own, “for now, we eat.”

Without waiting for an answer, Chris exited the kitchen and went to sit in his armchair. It was worn down and comfortable, and Chris favored it to the couch, which often felt too big to use on his own. He started shoveling macaroni into his mouth, without tasting them. He was eating more out of a strong self-preservation instinct than hunger.

It hadn’t been a full minute since Chris had sat when Leon appeared in the living room holding his own bowl of pasta, looking paler now than he had in the kitchen. He stumbled to the couch and plopped himself in the corner closest to Chris, sighing heavily. He stared out of the large floor-to-ceiling window facing him, his clear blue eyes reflecting the cloudless sky. He didn’t touch the food in his hands until Chris pointedly cleared his throat and almost choked on a stray macaroni, making Leon cast him an amused glance. He half-heartedly chewed a few spoons of pasta, returning his gaze to the cityscape.

Once he was done, Chris set his empty plate on the coffee table and tucked one leg under himself as best as he could, making himself comfortable.

“By the way, I think we should introduce ourselves properly, make all this feel a little less weird? I’ll start,” he smiled at Leon, “I’m Chris Redfield, Claire’s older brother. I’m 25, and I used to be a S.T.A.R.S. agent. Nice to meet you.” He held out a hand towards Leon.

The latter scrambled to set his plate down —still more than half-full, Chris noted— and shook Chris’ hand. It was undoubtedly a man’s hand, with rough patches on the palm and short nails, not bitten off but cut as much as possible, but it was small in Chris’ large hand, and the skin he could feel on the back was soft. He spotted a thin silver scar running from in between his index and middle finger to his wrist ; not deep, but long, and precise.

“I’m Leon Kennedy, I’m 21. I asked to be placed at the Raccoon City Police Station after I heard about the Arklay mountains events.”

Chris dropped his hand. “You’re very young. Fresh out of the Academy, hmm?”

Leon smiled bashfully and nodded. “You’re not much older than me, though. And you were already a special agent.”

Chris chuckled. “That’s true. But I was at the Air Force before coming to Raccoon City.” He winked. “One of my contacts got me a seat in the S.T.A.R.S. office after that.”

Leon looked admiring. Still, he chastised, “Stop boasting.”

That made Chris laugh. The sound made Leon’s eyes glitter, and the corner of his mouth pulled up. 

“I’m not boasting. I got away from the Air Force because hierarchy was a pain in my ass, and the same thing happened here. When I last left the station, the S.T.A.R.S. were pretty much done for, because we’d stirred up some shit in the Arklay mountains no one wanted to see surface.”

“The T-virus?” 

Chris nodded and glanced at Leon. He looked exhausted despite his obvious interest in their conversation.

“You should sleep now, Leon. When the girls come back up we’ll want to think about what to do next. Rebecca will probably try to prod you with one of her needles again, too.”

Chris wasn’t a mean man. But where he knew Leon craved his company, he also knew he craved the younger man’s touch. He tried not to think about it ; was it the fear? The undeniable beauty of that man he saved? The feeling of being wanted, needed? Chris didn’t want to linger on the reasons behind his attraction towards Leon, a man he didn’t know at all, yet knew better than most people he’d brought home for one night.

He had mentioned the needles because he knew Leon would react. He knew there would be a slight chance the younger man would try to get closer to Chris on reflex.

Instead, Leon’s right eye ticked. He tucked his legs under his body on the couch and made himself look infinitesimally smaller, hiding himself into the corner further. The size of Chris’ clothes on him made him look even smaller. 

Before the man could retreat into himself completely, Chris grabbed the ankle closest to him. Leon flinched but didn’t pull away. He observed Chris calmly.

“Sorry I said that. I think I need to rest too. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” Leon answered, too quickly.

Chris shook his head and released Leon’s bony foot. He got up and gestured toward his bedroom.

“I’ll go lie down. My bed is big, so if you want to be close, you can come nap with me.” Leon started to protest, but Chris cut him off, “Stop trying to put on a brave front. If you need to be close to someone, just obey your instincts. If this comes from the infection, who knows what resisting it entails. I don’t mind blanket thieves so,” he grinned, “you’re welcome to join me.”

In what was now becoming his signature exit, he didn’t wait for Leon’s answer and went to his bedroom, leaving the door ajar. He drew the blankets back and sunk onto the mattress, pulling his favorite plaid over himself. He squirmed until he was able to settle into his favorite position, laid on his side, his back to the rest of the bed. If Leon joined him, there was plenty of room left for him to lie down without feeling encroached by Chris. He deepened his breathing, ready to fall asleep.

Noise from the other side of the door kept him alert ; plates clanging together, and fast footsteps passing by. More noises from the kitchen, water running, a choked-off gasp that had Chris’ skin break out in anticipatory goosebumps. Footfalls growing closer fast, the person not bothering to smother the noise they were making. The door creaked open, letting some sunlight streak in. It closed behind the intruder, who let out a wistful sigh. The person rounded the bed, and hesitated. 

After a few seconds of deliberation, Chris felt the mattress dip under Leon’s weight, careful and gentle, mindful of the bed’s occupant. He heard and felt the man slide between the blankets, nestling his body closer and closer to his offered back, until he felt a foreign breath caress his nape. He imagined Leon lost under a pile of blankets, inches away from actually touching his back. Leon’s breath was scalding hot, but felt so very intimate that Chris shivered. Leon exhaled forcefully, and one of his hands found its way to Chris’ shoulder blade. He let it rest there, touching but not pressing nor pushing. Chris settled and fell asleep like this, and Leon didn’t move any further, joining the other man in slumber, lulled by the even breaths and strong heartbeat against his hand.

******

A few hours later, blue eyes opened drowsily. Night was falling outside, casting purple and pink shadows on the walls, where the sunset light was passing through the slots in the blinds obscuring the room. Everything was silent around them. The noises from the city didn’t reach them on the 8th floor, behind thick windows and walls. Leon didn’t know what had woken him. He was comfortable and calm. Warm. 

He lifted his eyes and was met with a stubbly chin. His arms were trapped between his own torso and someone else’s sturdy chest. He didn’t have the energy to panic. He didn’t dare move too much. He could feel two strong arms snaked around his waist, not restraining, but they still held him close. One of them was trapped under the dip of his waist, the other thrown around his shoulders, hand tangled in Leon’s t-shirt. Leon remembered. 

He could remember the despair of feeling trapped under the bulk of that beast, back at the station. How it had come so suddenly into the room, and Leon had expected blows, much like their prior encounters. But the monster had grabbed Leon around the neck and thrown him into a pile of cardboard boxes. He had been scrambling to his feet when it had pinned him to the floor with a large boot on the back, and he’d been so sure that he would die like this, crushed by an unsightly creature.

But the thing had moved behind him. It had lain over him, and ripped his trousers and the bottom of his shirt. That had been when Leon had understood. The fear had been so potent then that all he had been able to do was scream. Leon was not one to surrender to terror, but the feeling that had grown in him at that moment was the most primal he’d ever felt. He had wanted to escape. The monster had silenced him with one of his grotesquely large and icy fingers pressing onto his tongue. The sensation had been violating. So had been the intent behind the movements of the beast, rhythmic and animal-like.

He hadn’t even heard Claire scream. His ears had been ringing with a monotonous tone, white noise filling his consciousness. When the monster had let up he hadn’t had the energy nor the drive to fight his way out. He had just laid there, waiting. Another large hand had come for his skin, and he had started yelling again, ignoring the lancing pain in his throat, but the contact was accompanied by a rough, soothing voice. The monster hadn’t spoken. It hadn’t made a noise. Leon desperately latched onto that voice, and the man it was coming from. He could hear the thunderous footsteps of the monster still close by, but his mind was so enticed by the man’s gentle behavior.

He remembered. Chris, Claire’s brother. Carrying him, protecting him. The child, calling for him. The shame and terror, annihilating any other feeling. But the one constant that night was Chris’ voice, Chris’s hands, Chris’ eyes. They weren’t afraid, they weren’t disgusted by him. He felt safe, he had offered solutions. Leon remembered being so completely focused on that man. He had awaited an order, he wanted to follow that man anywhere, everywhere. 

The rest of the night had been a blur. He remembered sounds, feelings. Most of all the fear, and the rage when they’d tried to separate him from Chris. He’d needed to protect him, he’d needed to stay by him to survive and thrive. That had been what Leon was sure of. His head had been a hive of white noise and screams, until he’d blacked out. And again, upon waking up, gentle eyes and a calm voice. Everything he’d been craving, right where it should have been. Peace again.

His head had cleared later, after the needle. He’d been in the bath, and Chris had been there. Just Chris. He had needed to tell him, to show him he knew what Chris had been and was doing for him. It had required speaking, and it had come back to him quite easily. He hadn’t even realized that he’d forgotten how for a moment. 

And now, this. Leon let himself be engulfed by the simple-minded happiness of being held, and most of all by the man who had cared so much. He lifted his head slowly to look at Chris’ face. He looked deeply asleep, peaceful. His brow had lost that slight furrow he’d been sporting all day. Leon realized then that they were both stupidly young. He let himself imagine a different situation. A situation in which Leon would have been able to get noticed by such a man, and in which Chris would have taken him home. He would have offered him another drink, and they would have sat close to each other on the couch. Leon could almost feel the buzz of alcohol in his toes and the anticipatory adrenaline of an oncoming kiss. 

Leon let himself dream. He would have woken up in the night, after they’d have sex, perhaps. His only worries then would have been the awkwardness of the oncoming morning. Although, Leon felt that Chris wouldn’t have let him worry about that for long. 

He shuffled in Chris’ arms, making the older man grunt in his sleep. The arms around him tightened, and the one thrown around his shoulders shifted. A big hand landed on the crown of Leon’s head, surprising the younger man into a quiet whine. The hand moved gently, in a caressing motion through his hair, and he realized he was being petted.

Chris pulled Leon’s head further into his neck, tucking the blonde’s nose into the crook of his clavicle, never stopping his soothing caresses through Leon’s locks. The latter could feel more than hear a deep humming sound coming from Chris’ chest, a calming growl. Feeling emboldened, Leon nudged Chris’ legs with one of his own, trying to twine them together. It felt vital that they be as close to each other as possible. Chris was pliant and accepting in sleep, and Leon didn’t feel altruistic enough in that moment not to take advantage of it. 

Once Leon felt satisfied with their position, he snuffled into Chris’ neck and settled. The hand’s movements were slowly fading as the older man fell back into a deeper sleep, but it remained on Leon’s head, grounding, and all-encompassing. The younger man felt wholly engulfed in Chris’ embrace, and the serenity that came with that feeling was exhilarating. He felt at once the urge to scream in elation and the deep pull of slumber brought upon by the safety of their position.

_Let me have this_ , he thought. _For now, this_.

******

**Author's Note:**

> towards the end, Leon remembers being assaulted. if you want to skip that part, stop reading after "Leon remembered."  
> you can start again at "The rest of the night had been a blur." which you can type into the search bar so you'll find it without reading anything bad. skipping that moment will not hinder your reading of the scene after that, i promise!
> 
> thank you for reading!


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